Lang Downs

by Ariel Tachna

  Mentally Jesse ransacked his bag, trying to remember if he had any condoms left. He’d stocked up when he got to Melbourne last fall, but that was several months ago, and he’d burned off a little steam since then.

  He thought he still had a few, but it might be wise to join the next supply run to Boorowa. He could get whatever the station needed and pick up a few extras for himself.

  He adjusted his hat on his head as he left the veranda and stepped out into the sun. It wasn’t late enough in the year to be hot yet, but the rays were no less bright, and Jesse had to walk due west to get to the bunkhouse. He glanced around as he walked, scouting likely locations for continuing what he and Chris had started in the bathroom. The bunkhouse would be crowded after dinner, all the jackaroos hanging out in the main room to relax a little before going to bed. The sheds where they sheared the sheep would be quiet, but Jesse figured they’d spend enough time there as the summer went on. He’d wait to deal with the smell of animals until then.

  The station boasted a number of small houses, presumably for the families that lived on site. Macklin had made a comment about the foreman’s house standing empty, but Jesse had no idea which one that was, and he had no desire at all to get busted sneaking in there, with or without Chris.

  That left the machine shed or the canteen.

  They had to eat in the canteen, which left the machine shed.

  It had the advantage of being somewhat secluded from the rest of the buildings, plus no one was likely to go there after hours.

  Reaching the bunkhouse, Jesse went into his room and gathered his kit for a shower. He was covered in sweat and grease and need. The shower might not do anything for the need, but his body would at least be clean.

  He stripped down and wrapped a towel around his waist as he headed to the shower block the jackaroos shared. Fortunately the space was empty, the other men already finished or not yet back from the day’s chores, so Jesse didn’t have to worry about anyone taking exception to his presence or accusing him of staring or any of the dozen other problems he’d had on previous stations. Maybe it wouldn’t happen here, with the more tolerant attitude, but Jesse saw no reason to take chances when showering at off times would avoid any problems.

  He turned the water on as hot as he could stand. It helped cut the grease, but more than that, it burned away some of the tension in his neck and shoulders. Shaving someone else was not at all like shaving himself, and he’d tensed up in his effort not to cut Chris’s face. Even after he’d finished, the tension hadn’t faded, replaced by the effort of holding back, of going slow. Fat lot of good that had done him. He’d given in and kissed Chris anyway. He hadn’t been able to help it, not with Chris’s eyes closed so trustingly and his lips parted slightly.

  And the little sounds he kept making.

  Jesse groaned remembering them. He had no idea how he’d be able to face Chris at the dinner table without dragging him off somewhere private for another kiss. Chris had felt too good beneath his hands, his face smooth, his chest dusted with light blond hair, so light it was barely visible against his fair skin. The bandages around his ribs hid his abs and treasure trail, but they didn’t hide his pecs or his nipples, a light, delicate color to match everything but Chris’s eyes.

  Jesse rested his forehead against the shower wall. He had to get a grip on himself—not that kind!—or he’d never be able to face Chris later. He had no idea what kind of experience Chris had, but one way or another, Jesse had to be the one in control. Even if they were just messing around, he didn’t want to do anything to hurt the kid. He’d been hurt enough already, both physically and emotionally.

  Grabbing the shampoo, he scrubbed at his short dark hair. He’d all but shaved it before he came to Yass, but it would be long again by the end of the summer. Done with his hair, he lathered up the soap and did his best to remove all traces of grease from his body. It was a lost cause while they still had machinery to repair, but he tried anyway, although he supposed grease was better than sheep dung. They’d start the shearing soon and then he’d really be filthy, but they had to repair the tractor first or they wouldn’t have any way of hauling off the wool as they got it ready for processing. The utes could haul a small trailer, but nothing like what they’d need for the quantity of wool a spread like this one would produce. Jesse had seen the pens around the valley. Lang Downs had a lot of sheep.

  He rinsed off and soaked up the water with the towel. He wrapped it around his waist and was heading back to his room when he heard someone calling his name.

  “Hi, Patrick,” he said. “I was just finishing my shower.”

  “Well, come by my place when you get dressed,” Patrick said. “I fired up the barbie to celebrate fixing the bloody tractor.”

  “It’s not fixed yet,” Jesse pointed out.

  “Close enough,” Patrick said. “All we have to do is put the engine back together.”

  “Are Chris and Seth coming?”

  “I hadn’t invited them, but I can if you think I should.”

  “I don’t know about Seth,” Jesse said. “He might rather eat in the canteen with Jason, but I bet Chris would appreciate being included with the men.”

  WHEN CHRIS came down to the canteen for dinner, he found Jesse lounging in the doorway. “There you are,” he said, his eyes raking Chris from head to toe. “Patrick invited us over to his house for a barbie. Seth wanted to stay and eat with Jason, but I thought you might enjoy it.”

  Chris grinned, all his nerves—all the worried ones, anyway; the anticipation ones were still on high alert—fading at the sight of Jesse’s sexy grin. “I could handle a barbie,” he said. “What’s he cooking?”

  “He didn’t say, but I figure it’ll be a nice change of pace from the canteen,” Jesse said, stepping aside so Chris could join him outside. “Not that Kami’s cooking is bad, but it’s a beaut night. We can sit around, drink a few beers, watch the stars come out.”

  Sneak away somewhere private? Chris thought hopefully, but he kept the words to himself. He didn’t want to appear too eager. Never mind that he was still half-hard from the kiss earlier.

  The smell of smoke from the grill grew stronger as they crossed the station toward Patrick’s house. “Dinner shouldn’t be long, it smells like,” Jesse said.

  “Good,” Chris replied. “I’m starved.”

  When they reached Patrick’s, Jesse led Chris around to the back so they wouldn’t tromp through the house in their dusty boots. The other mechanics were all there already, boots propped up on the deck rail as they sipped their beers and laughed and joked with the familiarity of men who had worked together for years. Chris was glad Jesse was there with him because he would have been the outsider for sure otherwise.

  “Chris, glad you could join us,” Patrick said with a wave from his place by the grill. “Grab a beer. Make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks, mate,” Chris said. He got a beer, although Jesse had to help him open it, and settled in one of the porch chairs. Jesse sat across from him, joining the conversation with the other mechanics, but Chris didn’t mind. Their relative positions gave him an excuse to stare at Jesse without being obvious about it, and if the number of times he caught Jesse looking back at him was any indication, Jesse’d had the same thought when he sat down.

  Then Jesse lifted his beer to his mouth, eyes locked on Chris’s face as he closed his lips around the mouth of the bottle, sliding it in and out just the slightest bit before tipping it up and taking a drink. Chris gulped, lust curling in his gut at the sight. Jesse swallowed and winked at Chris before returning to the conversation, and Chris thought he’d go up in flames. Just spontaneously self-combust right there.

  Determined not to let Jesse get the better of him—the jackaroo might be older, but Chris was no inexperienced kid—Chris lifted his own beer to his mouth, rolling the rim of the glass back and forth along his lower lip, waiting for Jesse to turn his way before licking a drop of beer off the bottle. He swore he saw sparks flare in
Jesse’s eyes.

  He rocked onto the back legs of his chair and grinned in triumph. He might be susceptible to Jesse’s flirting, but Jesse was just as susceptible to him. Oh, this was going to be fun.

  “The meat’s ready,” Patrick called. “Grab some plates and come serve yourselves. Carley made some side dishes and there’s more beer as well as soda or tea if you’d prefer that.”

  Chris set his beer on the table, wondering how he’d manage to hold a plate and serve himself at the same time with his bad arm when Jesse smiled at him. God, it was hard not to imagine that mouth doing things to him when Jesse winked at him again. “Get your plate and tell me what you want,” Jesse said. “I’ll fill you up.”

  Chris narrowed his eyes, but Jesse smiled at him, daring him to say anything. Chris just nodded, not trusting himself to do anything but beg Jesse to do exactly that, right now. “Later,” he finally croaked.

  “Later for sure,” Jesse agreed, focusing in on Chris’s backside. Chris swore he felt the caress like a touch, but Jesse’s hands were at his side, not anywhere near the seat of Chris’s jeans. He cleared his throat and tried to adjust himself discreetly. The last thing he needed was for the others to notice his hard-on. He didn’t care if Jesse noticed. Hell, he hoped Jesse would do a lot more than notice before the night was over! He just didn’t want the other mechanics ragging on him for it.

  Fortunately no one but Jesse seemed to pay any attention to Chris’s slightly awkward gait as he crossed the yard to where Patrick and Carley had the food laid out.

  “What’ll you have?” Jesse asked. “Steak, snags, rissoles, ooh, is that lamb?”

  “You’ll be tired of lamb before the summer’s over,” Patrick joked.

  Jesse shook his head. “I never get tired of lamb. What do you want, Chris?”

  “A couple of snags and a rissole,” Chris said. “That salad looks good, and fresh potato salad? I haven’t had that since before my mum got sick.”

  Jesse loaded up Chris’s plate with meat and fixings, all without further comment, but Chris had no illusions the innuendo was done. He only hoped he could give as good as he got.

  Back at the table, Chris nearly choked on his beer when Jesse picked up a whole sausage and put the tip in his mouth, grinning around it before biting off a mouthful.

  “So, Chris,” Carley said, sitting down next to Jesse, fortunately after he’d put the snag back on his plate, “where are you from?”

  “Adelaide,” Chris said, “but we left a while back. Mum got sick and couldn’t keep her job. We ended up in Canberra because that’s where her husband’s family was, but after she died, there wasn’t anything to keep us there.”

  “You didn’t want to stay with your stepfather?” Carley asked.

  “Carley,” Patrick said, joining them. “Let the boy eat. You can give him the third degree later.”

  Chris shot Patrick a grateful smile. He really didn’t want to talk about Tony, but maybe it would be better to get it all out in the open once and for all. Then people wouldn’t always be looking for casual ways to ask about it.

  “We weren’t his kids,” Chris said after a few bites, not looking up as he spoke. He didn’t want to see their reactions. “After Mum died, he told us to get out. He hadn’t ever adopted either of us or anything, so legally he didn’t have to take care of us. We tried staying in Canberra, but we couldn’t find a place we could afford, so we started moving inland. That’s how we ended up in Yass, and now here.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” Carley said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “Somebody ought to take a stick to him for being so cruel.”

  Chris summoned a smile, trying not to let her see how close to tears he was. Jesse’s foot nudged his beneath the table. Chris looked his way, and Jesse rubbed his foot against Chris’s ankle. The silent support, flirting, whatever Jesse intended it to be, settled Chris again, and he was able to give Carley a real smile. “It’s over. Seth is safe, and we’re together. That’s all that matters.”

  “Spoken like a real man,” Patrick said approvingly. “You’ll do fine here, Chris. We’ll make a stockman out of you before long.”

  “As soon as I get rid of this,” Chris said, lifting his cast. “Can’t do a lot of work with this slowing me down.”

  “We’ll keep you busy, don’t you worry, mate,” Jesse said.

  THE LOOK on Chris’s face as he told Carley about his mother had killed Jesse’s hard-on completely. He’d gone from wanting to push Chris into the nearest dark corner to wanting to stand between him and the world and demand the world stop knocking him down. Then Chris had rallied and Jesse had relaxed a little, but the desire from earlier in the day stayed on the back burner.

  As everyone said their goodnights to Patrick and Carley, Jesse hovered near Chris’s side. Once they’d finished with the social niceties, Jesse gestured for Chris to follow him away from the bunkhouse so they could talk without anyone else listening in.

  “You okay?” Jesse asked when they were alone.

  Chris shrugged. “I guess so. It’s no fun talking about it, but now everyone knows, so maybe that’ll be the end of it.”

  “I don’t know if Carley will let it go at that,” Jesse said, “but most of the men won’t care one way or another. Jackaroos tend not to pry into other people’s business because more than a few of us have pasts of our own we’d rather not discuss.”

  “You included?”

  “Me included,” Jesse said, although if Chris asked, he’d tell him. Deciding to change the subject, he pointed upward. “Look at that sky. Have you ever seen stars like that? You can see a few of them in Melbourne, but nothing like this.”

  Chris looked up obediently. Jesse stepped up directly behind him so he could guide Chris’s gaze to the different constellations. “There’s the Southern Cross,” he said. “And Capricorn and Aquarius right overhead.”

  Chris turned his head to follow where Jesse was pointing, leaning back against Jesse so trustingly that Jesse almost told him to stop, to choose someone better to rely on that way, but Chris’s body was warm against his in the cool evening air, and Jesse couldn’t stop the memories of how good it had felt to kiss Chris earlier in the day.

  “What else is up there?” Chris asked.

  “The Milky Way, of course,” Jesse said. “Pisces is just above the horizon, that way.” He pointed to the east. “And the Magellanic Clouds are just a little to the left of it.”

  “How’d you learn so much about the stars?” Chris asked. “I remember hearing some of it in school, but not enough to remember it.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of lonely nights out with the sheep,” Jesse replied. “Not much to do out there but stare at the stars. I got curious, so I started looking things up. What you can see changes from season to season, so it never gets boring. At least not to me.”

  Chris turned in Jesse’s half embrace, his arms settling on Jesse’s hips. “You’ll have to show me more another time.”

  “Anytime you want,” Jesse offered. Chris’s closeness had a predictable effect, but Jesse savored the sweetness of the moment instead of rushing headlong into the heat. They had all summer. They didn’t have to jump straight into bed, or a pile of hay, as the case may be.

  Chris seemed to share Jesse’s feelings, leaning up for a soft kiss that was an end in itself rather than the prelude to something more. Their lips met, parted, met again, and clung this time, tender and evocative without being demanding. Jesse could sense Chris’s willingness to have it go farther, faster, deeper, but he held back, and Chris followed his lead, keeping the contact light and soft. Reassuring more than needy.

  After a moment, Jesse pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against Chris’s, but no longer kissing him. “What are we doing?”

  “Enjoying each other’s company,” Chris replied, his voice breathy.

  It was both more and less of an answer than Jesse had hoped for. Chris hadn’t asked for declarations or promises that Jesse coul
dn’t give, which should have been a relief, but a kernel of selfishness inside him wanted Chris to want more. It had been so long since anyone had wanted Jesse for himself rather than for a hot night or a casual fling. Then again, Chris wasn’t pushing him against the wall or into the machine shed to demand more. He was enjoying this moment with Jesse exactly as it was, so maybe he did want, if not more, then at least something beyond a one-night stand.

  “We should probably go inside,” Jesse said. “You have to get up early in the morning. Kami will be expecting you.”

  “In a minute,” Chris said, tipping his head for another kiss. Jesse gave it willingly, enjoying the smoothness of Chris’s lips beneath his. The weight of the cast gave Chris’s embrace a lopsided feel, but that only served to remind Jesse who he was with. Not some random guy he’d picked up at a bar, but Chris, his friend, maybe even his friend with benefits.

  But not tonight. The mood wasn’t right to bring it up, and Jesse far preferred the comfort between them to a quick tumble that would spoil this for good.

  When Chris finally stepped back, Jesse let him go. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

  “I’ll be there,” Chris promised.

  Eight

  CHRIS WAS all but whistling as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. Kami gave him a suspicious look, but Chris ignored it, starting the eggs for breakfast without waiting to be told. After several weeks of working in the kitchen, he knew the routine.

  “Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Kami said after a few minutes. “If I didn’t know where you spent the night last night, I’d think you’d gotten lucky.”

  “Luck comes in all different forms,” Chris replied. His lips were still buzzing from the kisses he and Jesse had shared. He’d resisted the urge to jerk off last night and again this morning, hoping to feel Jesse’s hand sooner than later. Not before tonight, obviously, since they had to work today, but Chris had spent the night dreaming about Jesse and all the things he wanted the jackaroo to do to him.